


Tales of Shaw's

by MikeSierra



Category: 9-1-1 (TV), Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, all the rest of the fire family is here, i think we could use a soft fic now and then, mutual pining but it's surprisingly not that painful, of course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25850164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeSierra/pseuds/MikeSierra
Summary: A certain young couple of NYPD officers goes out for drinks as a little treat after a long day at work - and a celebration for great news.Meanwhile, a certain group of firefighters from Los Angeles gather in a New York bar after one of them becomes Mister April for the National Firefighters Calendar and they all attend the award ceremony in the Big Apple._______________________________________[B99 LAST SEASON SPOILERS! This takes place somewhere in the middle of B99's season 7, so don't read if you don't want a major spoiler!]
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

"Come on Ames, what is it?"

Jake had the tendency not to look at the road while driving - especially if it was Amy sitting in the passenger's seat. His eyes darted restlessly from the traffic lights to her face, where the sweetest pair of frowning lips reigned and seemed to take up half her face. He could have kissed her,  _ his wife _ , so hard right now.

"W-what do you mean?" She definitely didn't realise how easy it had become for her husband to read her. Jake… He has always been so attentive to her body language.

She should have expected her discomfort to pop up, sooner or later that evening. With an awkward look on her face, she adjusted the mid-length skirt of her dress, shifting in her seat.

"I don't know, Jake…" She quietly protested, "I feel dumb in this. It's been a while since we actually went on a date. And, right at Shaw's..."

It had been a couple of days where she had been generally feeling under the weather - for the first time since they discovered they'd been expecting a baby. They simply blamed her crazed out hormones, but Jake still couldn't help feeling genuinely protective of her, both in and out of work.

He placed a hand on her thigh, stroking it lightly.

"Babe, you look amazing.

No one's stopping us to turn around and just go home if you don't want to stay, but I think it'd be a fun couple of hours out, y'know. To take our minds off work.

And about our secret… it's not noticeable yet. I can assure you."

His fingers shifted from her thigh to her stomach, the smallest of bumps in there, probably just imaginary at such an early stage - it had been just a few days since they knew they were pregnant, after all. But they both knew what was going on in there, and that was enough.

Enough for Jake to notice her glowing skin, for Amy to give meaning to the pleasant, childhood-memory dreams she kept having.

For them to feel like quietly celebrating for the third evening in a row, because after all that trying, they finally had to experience that unique joy, the start of that new chapter of their lives together.

It wasn't for sure the first time they realised they had an amazing relationship, but now that happiness had a new face, a very very tiny baby face. They could both already picture in their minds what their newborn would look like - and much to their surprise, their guesses would be amazingly similar. And close to the truth itself.

But for that moment, the baby was still little more than an idea - and the reason Amy had to order the non-alcoholic version of her favourite cocktail at the bar.

Jake wanted an alcohol-free drink too, both to raise less suspicion to why she wouldn't have the usual and because frankly, he found out that either they both got tipsy, or it wasn't just as fun being the only one drinking.

And maybe, just maybe, also because her big-ass flûte drink that smelled of mango and passion fruit was too mouth-watering for him not to have his own Exotic Smoothie.

He had read somewhere that expecting dads could also get food cravings while hanging with their wives. Well, that or Boyle told him that. Either way, it had just been confirmed.

Besides, someone else seemed to be downing the couple's share of beer, with their own.

It was as if the two, tall glasses of beer that Jake and Amy would have usually ordered just shifted to the other side of Shaw's bar - what had infamously become, after a certain drink-off night,  _ the firefighter area  _ of the bar - two glasses, multiplied by ten, and being currently chugged by an entire table of what looked like five young chill tourists together with a sole goal in mind: put the guy in the middle in the worst condition possible by the end of the night.

The group seemed to find incredibly amusing the sight of their friend, open-shirted and with what looked like a small red scar on his forehead - not bleeding, so probably and hopefully not related to the night's events - arm wrestling a young, buzzcut woman that looked like she could not only win to him in arm wrestling, but could just as easily bench-press him. The guy had, under the open button-down, a blue shirt and a pair of wide red suspenders - clothes somehow familiar to both Jake and Amy.

They also seemed to have produced out of thin air two pieces of plastic tubes, makeshift funnels in which to pour beer while keeping both hands free to wrestle, and two of the other guys were warming up each fighter's shoulders from behind, occasionally filling up the funnels - like very dedicated, tipsy and loud wrestling coaches.

They were definitely…

"Firefighters," concluded in unison the detective couple, down from their table on the other side of the room.

Firefighter suspenders. Firefighter nozzles used as funnels. Even if no one there was wearing their suit, it was as clear to the detectives what they were, as if they had their full uniforms on.

But there seemed to be another thing unsettling Detective Peralta.

"...These new guys are all so handsome though. I mean, do ya see them?  _ All of them. _ "

"Yeah, right?

Wait. Are we being creepy, Jake?"

Amy couldn't tell if she was more upset by the wholesomeness of what was going on by that group of loud strangers, or because she couldn't tear her eyes off them.

She just sipped her fruity drink through her straw, before realising they both had been staring directly at the group. And finally, politely and a little shily averted her stare.

"Nuh-uh… We're fine, Ames. Just a couple of normal guys, drinking at a table… Normsies..."

Jake was the one now that couldn't stop looking - intrigued as a kid in a zoo, he realised they were so different from the awful FD team they all knew and hated with their usual bickering, quarreling and general noise. This group instead seemed to be actually enjoying themselves, and in a genuine way too - no one punching each other, at least, and neither getting completely wasted. Instead, they now seemed to briefly switch to a - terribly performed - game of charades. No one mimicked something even remotely understandable, but that didn't seem to stop their teammates to try and loudly guess what must have been a series of inside jokes, judging by the volume of their laughs.

There was a middle-aged stern looking guy, his first glass of beer still untouched, that was definitely the Dad Friend of the group by the looks of it. He had been keeping the score of the just resumed arm-wrestling.

Jake cleared his throat and resisted the temptation to point at him, resting sure that Amy had been staring at him as well.

"That's the Holt," he declared, and Amy couldn't help but agree with a hum.

If he was the Holt, then surely they could find a resemblance in the arm-wrestling pair too - that is to say the badass strong lady and the suspenders guy...

"Arm wrestling: Rosa and Charles. Of course."

This time it was Amy's guess and Jake's turn to agree with a snicker.

Now Mister Sweet Brown Eyes approached Blond Guy With A Bruised Eye from the other side of the table - they stopped their useless coaching of the two wrestlers, instead seeming completely focused in holding each other's by the shoulders as if to prevent the other from falling over, and just blabbering something incomprehensible while looking into each other's eyes, with their faces not more than a few inches away.

Both Amy and Jake instantly looked down at their drinks, then to each other when they realised what they'd just been staring at. Maybe even a little ashamed to have stared at such an intimate moment.

In his head, though, Jake still felt the need to decide who would be the Ames and who the Jake between the blond and mr. sweet eyes: with no other given information on how to decide, he temporarily appointed the latter to be the Amy, but just because the blonde somehow gave off truly Chaotic Vibes and he himself could identify with that. The blonde did seem a fun guy to be around with, though.

In all honesty, he couldn't even begin to understand how accurate he had been. But then again, he's one of the best detectives he's ever known - you'd have to imagine he must have gotten pretty good at reading people.

"Ow. They're so cute." Amy pursed her lips in a small smile, finally snuggling closer to Jake's side and sighing contentedly.

"When was the last time we actually got to have a moment like that with the squad? I miss it."

"Yeah, it was for Charles's birthday and it was like, a week ago," A little weirded out by her sudden wave of nostalgia, Jake wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed the softest little kiss on his wife's forehead.

"You're becoming a big softie, Ames."

In the unusual privacy of their usual, crowded bar that by now felt like a second home, no one seemed to pay any particular attention to them. But at the same time, they found it to be the best setting when it came to letting off some steam, every once in a while, as a little date.

They finished sipping their drinks and talked - talked about their day, about their investigation, then a brief but comprehensive summary of Amy's research on the first stages of pregnancy and how it will affect her body. They had some fries, then burgers, and neither could think of a place on Earth where they'd feel more blessed than right there, in that moment.

Honestly, they had kinda forgotten about that table of drunken firefighters...

_________________________

  
  


The next time Hank came to visit them at their table was to bring two pints of beer. Beer that they of course did not ask for.

"It's on the guys down there - they're paying for a round for everyone."

Hank himself didn't seem really surprised by the gesture, maybe just a little relieved they weren't causing so much mess as the usual Fire Department - or admittedly the Nine Nine itself in one of their epic celebratory nights.

  
  


"COME ON GUYS, IT'S FOR CHIM!"

Several voices shouted, directed at Jake and Amy from the other side of the bar. Everyone in that merry group was now staring at them, cheering for them to accept their little treat.

"NO REALLY GUYS - WE DON'T DRINK TONIGHT!

BUT THANKS TO CHIM!" Amy shouted back at the same volume, giggling and awkwardly waving at them.

The suspenders guy - supposedly the much celebrated Chim at this point - shot back two thumbs up amidst the cheers of encouragement. Probably meaning something along the lines of an acceptance of their refusal with no hard feelings or offense taken.

"We should send them our drinks." Amy added, softly.

"Yeah, we should definitely send them some of these tropical drinks. They're just so good, there's no way they won't like them."

Jake agreed, excitedly sprinting to the counter and asking Shaw for another round of the same cocktails for them, and five of the same to be sent to the cheery table.

_________________________  
  


Judging from the speed in which the blonde made his glass of smoothie disappear, well - Jake and Amy could consider their idea very successful, at least with some of them. The designated Holt of the group dared taste the tropical cocktail, but didn't seem sold to the idea. As would the actual Holt, that probably would have had a bone to pick with the pointlessness of adults consuming "glorified fruit juice in a tall glass".

Mr. Sweet Brown Eyes, on the contrary, seemed to like the cocktail as much as his blonde boyfriend did.

Another couple of minutes passed, Amy went to the bathroom, and when she came back the handsome couple moved in on the foosball table.

Well, that was new. Since when did Shaw have a foosball table there? Or maybe they just didn't notice before, being that 1. it was at the firefighters' side of the bar, and 2. they would have never spontaneously approached a foosball table. No one on the Nine-Nine actually liked foosball in the first place, maybe only Jake but again, it wasn't as fun playing it by himself.

  
But again, that wasn't the usual. As he noticed the girl was back, the blonde firefighter waved at them both.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

"COME ON GUYS, WE NEED ANOTHER TWO PLAYERS FOR THIS!"

The Blonde with a Red Spot on his eye, also known as Buck to those who actually knew him, shouted out directed to the couple sitting at a table. He'd been making wide, vague gestures to the empty foosball handles beside him and Eddie.

To be fair, it would have actually been quite difficult to steer five handles each, also taking into consideration the fact that neither Buck nor Eddie was at their peak performance.

Or even their average performance - they had to come to terms with the fact that they were both pretty much tipsy-to-drunk. A happy, cheerful drunk, but still.

Behind Buck, Mr. Sweet Eyes - Eddie Diaz, for his new coworkers - turned bright pink from second-hand embarrassment. He nudged the blonde, talking directly in his ear because of the volume of the music inside the bar.

"Buddy… I told you they're on  _ a date _ , I don't think they wanna join us."   
  


Eddie turned to look the coworker in the face - that stunningly handsome, tipsy snout.

Just a couple minutes before, an unusually happy Buck had felt the urge to tell him a story really, really close.

Eddie couldn’t tell if it had been the alcohol - and at that point, it had been a while since he had had a good drinking - or it was just the sight of those full pink lips, fresh from beer, that made him suddenly hot on his neck, a sudden brush of cold air on his nape. Something, a familiar feel he hadn’t had in quite some time now, the one that made his stomach turn and twist and eat itself.

How did he end up there?

Sure, it had been a little more than a week since he started working at the 118, and things seemingly had started off the wrong foot with a certain one of his coworkers - but the rest of them, they had welcomed him on their  _ less-than-legitimat _ e week-long work trip to New York, and that night, in the after-party of the National Firefighters' Calendar award ceremony, he finally felt part of that big unconventional family.

Even Buck seemed to stand him a little better, that night.

To be honest though, Evan Buckley seemed to like pretty much everyone that evening. The totality of the hostesses at the ceremony, for instance, and one of the stewarts at that same ceremony, and three different groups of girls walking by in their path from the award ceremony to that very bar for a little after party; then Hank, whose grumpiness Buck found exhilarating given the kind of "social" job he did; and then finally and especially, the couple of lovebirds at the other side of the bar, that kept on drinking orange juice and chatting lovingly.

In the end, the couple seemed to be discussing something, big smiles on both their faces, before they decided to stand up and actually join the firefighters at the foosball table.

The first to extend his hand was Mister Dark Sweet Eyes.

"Eddie Diaz."

Jake and Amy exchanged a puzzled look.

Come on, it couldn’t be. There must have been a million Diaz around the world.

But still...

"Just checking. You don't have a sister named Rosa, do you?"

Eddie seemed lost. "Not that I'm aware of, no. Why?"

"Of course."

Jake and Amy shrugged, nodded and looked at each other as to dismiss that possibility immediately.

"Well I mean, naturally… We would know if Rosa had a brother, right? Right, Jake?"

Neither seemed really convinced by that.

Next step, the Blonde introduced himself with a handshake to Amy, and a hearty side-hug to Jake. 

“I’m Buckley. Evan. Buck, actually.”

  
  


_________________________

  
  
  


From their fare share, ever since they introduced themselves to each other, Jake and Buck were individually already drawn by the foosball table. Both of them were very good at foosball, and they easily won over Eddie and Amy.

After they tried - and failed - to play a chaotic one-versus-one match, they went for another round at the bar. Jake had yet again another smoothie, while Buck downed the umpteenth beer of the evening.

"So… What's the big occasion?"

"Uh?" The blonde firefighter turned from idly eyeing Amy and Eddie, to his newly acquired friend.

"I mean, you guys seem to be celebrating, right?

And you're wearing a tie, it must be something important." 

Captain Holt had taught him that, and now Jake was sure he would be wearing a tie at his child's birth. 

And that night, all the guys seemed dressed pretty formally, exception made for the party boy - for some reason.

"Hah, yes!” The blonde’s bright blue eyes lit up. He excitedly pointed to the firefighters’ table.

“Chim has won a page in the National Firefighters Calendar.

You're looking at Mister April right there!"

Yeah, he was. Hearing his name being called, Chim turned to the guys and flexed both arms in the same statuesque, only apparently chill pose that appeared in the calendar. The calendar that in that moment was left open on the table, under all the beer glasses.

“Dope.” 

Jake said, meaning it. He found himself wondering why he hadn't yet participated in the NYPD Calendar. Did the police have the same type of laid back, extremely cool calendars? Probably not. But if the celebration was like the one of that night, then it was still well worth it. He vowed to make a mental note to investigate how to apply for the police calendar.

The detective is once again stirred off from his train of thoughts by the younger firefighter, when the latter snapped his fingers and pointed at the loud speakers of the bar.

"Jake, you hear this?"

"Hear what?"

On the radio, the first upbeat notes of  _ Roxanne _ by the Police started playing, slightly reverberating in the noisy atmosphere of the bar.

A timeless classic.

"It's Roxanne!"

Something inside Buck's bright blue eyes lit up - the spark of competition. He started bouncing his leg at the beat.

"Yes, I'm familiar." Said a thoughtful Jake, "A great song. So?"

"I challenge you to a full Roxanne!"

Unluckily for both of them, Jake loved challenges just as much as Buck did.

  
  


A few steps away, Amy turned to her new friend with confusion on her face.

"It's an Army thing. A challenge." Tried to explain Eddie, waiting for the sealing of that dumb, dumb deal.

"You do a full burpee every time Sting calls for Roxanne."

Amy's confusion turned to worry when she remembered what a burpee was. She frowned, whispering as she laid her eyes on her pumped-up husband that was starting to dance on the spot, in front of the blonde that did exactly the same. Sparks of competition were flying.

"...oh no, babe."

  
  
  


Her understandable worry about her husband and his new, fit and just as dancey friend was abruptly interrupted by her ringtone.

She answered - the Sarge was calling from the precinct, asking her to stop by to help him find some kind of document. With all the noise of the bar, she hardly understood what type of file he was looking for, but she was positive once there it would have been really easy to find whatever paper Terry needed, considering her flawless case-files organisation.

Eddie quickly decided not to disturb her husband - who seemed to be having just the right amount of fun while coughing out his lungs right next to Evan, in the fast part of the song - and go along with Amy on the short (so she said) but mostly dark walk that linked the precinct to the bar. As an excuse, he said that some fresh air would’ve surely helped his tipsy mind - but to be honest to himself, Edmundo didn’t want to think of her walking alone at that time of the night.

On the path to her office they talked about New York, about Brooklyn, but at some point a tinge of awkwardness fell between them, both a little too out of their way to keep on making small talk.

Once they got to the precinct, all was good. She had quickly reached the Sarge to fix the paperwork, while Eddie was left quietly wandering around the office.

He more or less stumbled into the previously mentioned Rosa, with which he shares last names. When Amy looked up from Terry’s desk, she could find the two Diaz casually chatting, and Rosa even placidly showing him her knife. Amy couldn’t hear them from inside the Sarge’s office, but according to the relaxed expression on both their faces, she mustn’t have been threatening him - in fact, more like chatting about cold steel.

When Amy could go back to her desk to tidy up the used paperwork, she was met by the two Diaz, both showing a complicit smirk.

“Your desk is full of awards.” Said Eddie, a statement that was meant to be made matter-of-factly, but revealed a little amusement. Kind of like a playful banter.

“I skipped fourth grade, you know.” She replied, in the spirit of playfulness. Surely Rosa was behind that teasing - Rosa that was sitting right in front of them, enjoying that little break from a long night shift of paperwork.

Still, something in Amy’s competitiveness must have stirred Eddie’s pride - most surely inflated by his tipsy, happy mood. He replied, in the same playful tone:

“I served as a combat medic in Afghanistan, you know.”

“I'm the first female sergeant in my precinct and will soon become the youngest captain in the whole NYPD. You know.” She tilted her head on a side, in what was intended as a sassy Power Move™.

“I've been awarded the Silver Cross for my ‘acts of gallantry and intrepidity’. You know.”

Amy found herself without words to rebut to that last argument, and ended up pouting her way out of that confrontation. Rosa too, became silent by the time that information sinked in, and in both women a deep sense of respect for the man in front of them replaced, at least partially, their playfulness.

Only Eddie didn’t change his amused expression at all.

“...I don't like this game.” Amy concluded, still frowning.

Eddie couldn’t stop a giggle at that pout, that soon followed a hearty laugh from all three.

When they left the precinct, they were both as placid as they’ve ever been that night.

_________________________

  
  


When the two came back to Shaw’s, Jake and Buck were drunkenly playing darts on each other - meaning that they now were their own targets. The other part of the firefighters’ squad was quietly chatting, and Eddie finally invited Amy to meet the others - the party boy, Hen, Bobby.

They introduced themselves and chatted a bit, until Eddie was charged with the task of bringing the others their drinks from the bar - a task he happily obliged. Tipsiness made him surprisingly energic, and walking around somehow felt better than sitting.

Amy couldn’t help but follow him, something on her mind that she was dying to ask Eddie.

  
  


"So…  _ Mexicano, tal vez? _ " Amy suggested, casually.

" _ Correcto. Y tú eres cubana, ¿no? _ " More of a guess about Amy’s surname than on her accent, really.

Amy nodded, and after bringing the glasses to the table, they both went sitting closer to Jake and Buck.

" _ No nos entienden, ¿verdad? _ " 

She casted her eyes again under that silky light, to the two full-grown men trying to pull out a dart inexplicably stuck in a pool table.

"Not in the slightest. At least, not Buck."

" _ Ustedes son una pareja encantadora, _ " the police woman added then under her breath, while turning to the firefighter.

  
  


Eddie coughed, nearly choking on his sip of beer.

"We're not a couple!" He replies a little too loud, maybe being heard even by the playful duo.

"You're… not?

But we saw you guys kiss…?"

At this point, Eddie had blushed even darker.

"We did not  _ kiss _ . We might have accidentally touched while talking and bumped our foreheads and noses."

Amy was confused, mostly by the surprisingly assertive voice of her new friend.

"But... you like him, don't you?"

Eddie gestured vaguely, swearing under his breath.

"Look, I’m not good with these things, and - I am a little  _ too drunk _ to actually reply in a coherent way.

And you ask too many questions, am I under investigation?"

"Just because I’m a cop I can’t ask questions or it’s overtime? Okay, got it." Amy tried to sound offended, but she has never been a good actress after all.

The firefighter scoffs, amused. Well, at least now they were changing the topic.

"You know, Buck guessed you were police before you guys even introduced yourselves. He told me when we were asking you to play foosball with us - he said something about you guys having NYPD energy, and something about CSI:New York."

Amy felt (rightfully) called out. Was it really that easy to spot them?

"Well, where are you guys from?"

"Los Angeles Fire Department."

  
  


"Babe, they're LAFD!" She shouted directed at Jake.

"Ah,  _ Code Red! _ " Was the excited reply or her cheerful husband, that felt like the news was worth bumping fists with Buck. They both exploded in a coordinated ‘ _ Yeah! _ ’ before going back to their pointless, incomprehensible games.

  
  


Eddie and Amy now went back to their chat.

"You’re changing the topic of conversation, mister. Why don't you try and ask him out?"

A frown painted Eddie’s face. "I don't really date, uh, people anymore."

"I'm not asking you about ‘people’ - maybe you could start with dating only  _ one _ .

More specifically, the lovely blonde guy that is currently trying to... shoot my husband with a sling made from... his tie and wall darts, I guess?"

Amy is, once again, perplexed by that mix of resourcefulness and creativity by the  _ soul twin _ of her husband. She had to admit she hardly ever saw Jake having so much fun off work, and they both complained when it came time for Bobby to stop and seize the sling-tie as an improper weapon.

Eddie couldn't stop staring at Buck, and once again winced when he caught himself doing it.

“Amy?”

“Mh?”

"Tonight is the first time he's actually been friendly to me.

I don't know why, but since I came to the 118, he'd been trying to avoid and antagonize me… you know?"

Something in Amy’s mind finally clicked.

Her memory, precise like a tidy Swedish binder, went back to her and Jake’s stupid bet from a few years before, when a car and a date were put on the same level just because they couldn’t understand their feelings yet.

She sighed contentedly, and Eddie couldn’t understand why.

"Jake and I used to pick on each other all the time.

At first, we couldn't stand each other."

Eddie still doesn’t know what to say. His dark eyes hover on the dancing duo.

They stay a few minutes in silence, overhearing the chats at the table, and the loud song on the radio.

“But tonight is unusual. 

I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to change the usual between us, if alcohol is not involved.”

Amy waved the fingers of her ringed hand in front of his face.

“But it might.”

Eddie stared at the tiny, shiny band on her finger, then his eyes ran to Buck for the last time.

They followed him in their hunger for answers, as Evan and Jake started singing along with the song blasting from the speakers, like a sort of unrequested and unrequired karaoke night for the - questionable - benefit of the whole bar.

Buck and Jake were soon joined by Chim and Hen. After that, it was just a matter of seconds before all four of them directed their hands towards Amy and Eddie, gesturing towards them as to ask them to join their collective and loud butchering of Ed Sheeran’s  _ Shape of you _ .

Maybe it has just been a glimpse, but Amy could swear she had seen Buck wink at Eddie before he motioned for Diaz to reach him and everyone else.

Eddie, on the other hand, seemed like he was having his private inner trial to decide over someone’s life or death. With an inexplicable frown on his serious face, he stood up from the bar stool and hissed something under his breath, before reaching the very bouncy Evan and carried him out of the bar holding by a wrist.

“...Fuck it, I’m going to ask him out.”

  
  


_________________________

  
  


In the confusion of the people singing, Jake detached from Chim and Hen’s tight hold and called for his wife, before he could actually reach and greet her with the excited face of a reporter about to drop the hottest news in town.

“Ames, you can’t imagine!

About Buck, that dude’s head over heels for Diaz.

Reminds me of myself the night of our first date!”

  
  


“Oh, I don’t think they’ll wait as much as we did to tell each other how they feel.”

She winked at Jake, then slightly nodded her head in the direction of the bar window, where the silhouettes of the two firefighters rushed to the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if there are any inaccuracies in the Spanish!


End file.
